Heartlines
by Isolith
Summary: Sequel to Spectrum. Relationships are never easy. Your heart is an entity of your past, a beating rhythm of the present and a hope for the future. A look into some things going wrong and some things going right. Sharon/Andy
1. Prologue

**A/N:** Sharon's point of view from old money and onwards (but still AU). This might be slightly different from Spectrum; in that case it's deliberately hehe but I tried to keep it in the same tone/universe. Otherwise I hope you enjoy; and that you don't think it's too out of sync with spectrum (that's the eternal dilemma/struggle with sequels, huh). =)

**-o-**

**Prologue**

**-o-**

Sharon vividly remembered when she first met Andy Flynn. It was etched into her mind so clearly, with such a vibrancy and intensity to it. It was a good memory; a good first impression.

He had sauntered up to her, cheeky rookie smile in place and a special glint in the depths of his brown eyes, deposited a large glass of beer in front of her and had with a sassy comment managed to ingratiate himself with her in the manner of a split second.

He was gorgeous, tall and full of so much energy; his smile had gone straight through her skin and latched onto her blood and attached itself to her heart.

She had liked him, almost instantly.

She vividly remembered drinking too much, talking too much and giggling too much; whispering about the old detectives hanging out in the opposite corner of the bar – sassy comments flying back and forth between them.

Yes, Sharon remembered the day she met Andy Flynn vividly; with fondness.

**-o-**


	2. Part 1 Love in your blood

**Part I; Love in your blood **

**-o-**

_Light, illuminant – transparent and ethereal; her heart seemed to hum in the cavity of her chest. _

Sharon felt submerged in a pool of absurdly giddiness, waves of ridiculous happiness rushing and crashing into her soul, bringing torrents of something almost too sweet, too tangible and too palpable. It was an altogether new feeling; too intense, too vivid, and too sugary – it was overwhelming. It enveloped her with arms in a tight, warm embrace and made her hands tremble. It shattered her mind into too many pieces that flittered around in disjointed thoughts; flitting between these overwhelming feelings and the absurd atmosphere in her body. Sharon rarely felt this out of her element; there was no calm in her, no control to grasp – and no sarcasm to deflect with.

She had tried to prepare herself, organize her anticipation according to an inner plan. She had done the necessary preparations; she was impeccable dressed, her hair fell in perfect soft curves and she had dug out her favorite heels. It did not help.

She hadn't accounted for her mind abandoning her – hadn't accounted for the fact that a date with Andy would bring her world into such a tumult. Had not taken into account that she would feel like a hormone-raged, bumbling teenager – wasn't life supposed to get easier the older you got? Where was her usual calming demeanor, her no-nonsense persona and why had it left her stranded with a giddy, giggly version of herself?

They had known each other for over two decades now; it seemed ridiculous that his presence resulted in the many butterflies in her stomach, preposterous that something so trivial between them felt like the world tilting around her. There was no intent to impress each other, to seduce each other; they knew each other so fully, so deeply – but why; why this light-headedness in her soul.

Here they were; for the first time in their long acquaintance out on a real date, sitting across from each other in plain sight, nothing to hide, nothing to feel guilty about. Free; no bars to hold them back. It was daunting; and so new. So different from every other time she had been in his presence; so different from the secretive, forbidden meetings back in their youth – so different from the fragile meetings at Joe's where the slightest misstep had brought them to an impasse. She liked it; it seemed so easy, so fluid and so normal. Maybe that was the reason behind the lightness in her; this was so new on so many levels. A novel approach to their relationship.

Andy was gazing at her; that was the best description for the way his eyes were latched onto her. He hadn't taken his eyes off her; their dark brunneous color seemed to see right into her, latched onto her heart and tugged her closer and closer.

She smiled at him, felt an almost inner need to laugh and tell him how she felt; invite him into her bubbly, happy world. Andy's trademark rogue smile had been ever-present since he had picked her up; only widening as he traced his hand across the small of her back and caught her fingertips in a brief hold – she had immediately felt an urge to kiss the silly smile off his face but had instead leaned closer to his touch, enjoying walking through the entrance to the restaurant, his presence warm at her back. She was pretty sure though that he was in his own world of bubbly happy.

She smiled wider.

"_I cannot even remember the last time I went on a date,_" Andy told her, eyes firmly on her and not perusing the menu in front of him. She couldn't deter her eyes from him either, mesmerized by him and his eyes, so warm, so tuned into her. He seemed like the sun rising when he smiled at her.

"_Me neither,_" she paused, her thoughts suddenly transferred back in time, to another time sitting across from this man. To a time where the beginning of their tenuous bond began; to a time where the genuinely, sweet bond of friendship between them had changed. "_I remember our first quasi date though._"

Andy hummed, his head tilted as he regarded her, his gaze a mix between a reminiscent sadness and a bright fondness.

Sharon knew she shouldn't bring up the past; it was so shrouded in melancholy and bad blood but if they never talked about it, it would be something that would lie festering in their hearts, rotten and wilted. Eventually it would overpower them, she knew. You couldn't deny the existence of something so crucial, couldn't ignore something that had had such an immense impact in their lives.

Besides; nothing could rub her off that feeling in her chest; that humming of content in the rhythm of her heart.

She gave him a reassuring smile; trying to imprint upon him that this was okay. This was who they were. They couldn't erase their past, however grim it was – it was a part of her, a part of him; a big part of who they were together. It was alright to talk about it.

"_Are we talking about that time I dragged you to Mellers'?_" Andy inquired, his tone calm and without remorse. She felt happy he remembered.

"_Yeah,_" she grinned, "_now that was only slightly awkward_"

"_Hey_" he retorted in mock-outrage, "_I was not awkward_"

She laughed.

Gosh, that had been a long time ago; they had gone to a scruffy-looking bar just the two of them, smoke billowing raw in the air and wafting into their clothes and skin. It hadn't mattered back then; they had eaten greasy burgers and drowned too many beers. They had been celebrating the end of working the streets at night; celebrating that the punishment for playing a practical prank was finally over. The air between had felt electric; felt tense with promise. It been just the two of them against the world; back then he had been her best friend; her closest confidante.

They had never called it a date; but it had distinctly been one despite that fact that they both had other people in their lives. Despite marriage and a girlfriend they had shared glances and furtive looks, - used excuses to touch each other, hands lingering longer than usual. Despite the strong bond of friendship between them, they had ended up back at his place; naked and sweaty, joined and together. Alcohol had always unhinged both of them, she reflected.

That night was a vague recollection now, lost in the haze of alcohol and age, she surmised. But the morning after; that was clear. It had been awkward. Hungover and snuggled into the arms of your partner – your best friend – his erection pressed against your back in his sleep. Legs tangled, arms encircling and intertwined. Sharon even remembered the heavy smell of sex and smoke in the small room, the taste of old beer in her mouth. She still remembered the intense sense of panic that had coursed through her; panic, guilt and a dark, gleeful tingling of ecstasy.

It had been a mistake; a glorious one but a mistake nonetheless. The start of spiraling out of control, for her – for Andy as well. The beginning of something which had connected them. It had brought them so close together and yet it had broken them as well. She had waded in a guilty, dark cloud the many next months, afraid and almost panicky. They had gone undercover then, and everything had unraveled from there.

"_That's what – some twenty odd years ago,_" Andy asked.

"_Yeah,_" she smiled.

"_Amazing – we should celebrate,_" he declared, his hands finding hers under the table, "_It only took us a little over twenty years, huh_"

"_Celebrate our dubious souls,_" she replied, and although the sentence was far from celebratory and despite the fact that twenty years back they had both dug their own respective graves, there was something almost clandestine about reminiscing, something almost sweet in reflecting about their mistakes. Everything was right now. Everything had been right back then. For them.

Andy caught her meaning, his fingers tightening around hers and he leaned closer; whispered into her ear;

"_Celebrate the first time I ever fell in love so deeply, so uncompromising_"

She shivered, his voice tingling her skin and his words ghosting into her being with its intensity. She squeezed his hand back.

"_Mmmm – celebrate,_" she commented as she leaned closer, smelled his aftershave as she deposited a slow kiss to his neck. She leaned back, caught his eyes and marveled at being able to languor in this, to settle into being with him without all the usual darkness. To be able to talk, to recollect without both of them cast into resentment and darkness.

To be able to kiss him in public.

It was marvelous. And the reason she felt ridiculously giddy.

The reason they would never be able to order any food, if they continued to look at each other and not their menus.

**-o-**

The apartment was dark and silent – she lay close to Andy, like an extra layer of skin attached to his body. She felt tranquil and lazy. Almost to the point of drowsy.

The apartment was empty but for the two of them. Sammy was at uni – he had texted her earlier, a weird – half-drunk she suspected – message about missing her lively salads. Sammy had never been one for green things but she appreciated his attempt at sarcasm. Lena – she sighed – was with her father. Her relationship with her daughter was complicated – and Sharon missed the little, sweet girl and not the angry teenager who blamed her mother for everything and adored her father to pieces.

She slid up the length of Andy's lean body, adjusting her body, tangling her legs further with his, nestling into the crook of his arm. She kissed his nipple – it was right in front of her. His hands caressed her spine, drew up and down in slow, deliberately circles. She hummed.

It was hard not to feel content in this moment, hard to not forget there was a world outside where existence wasn't so peaceful. In here, next to him, on top of him, it was easy to forget everything. Easy to push away anything that might compromise her happiness. It was easy to simply revel in the feel of him, skin against skin, warm and cozy – sizzling and soft.

"_I love you_," she mumbled into his skin. She knew she caught him by surprise for his hands stilled and she could feel the tension in his chest as he forgot to breathe. It was a surprise to her as well; she hadn't planned for it to leave her mind and her mouth, to say it out aloud.

She had told him the words once before – a very long time ago, in a very different lifetime. She had likewise been lying in his arms, they had been naked but her mind had spun in cartwheels. She had just taken the test – and had yet to tell anyone she was pregnant. It was such a disaster, such a mess – and she had spun in an endless circle of wishing Andy was the father and wishing she wasn't pregnant at all. But that night with him, she had felt calm and content; and she had told him, her voice quiet and contemplative, that she loved him. It had been blissful and she would never forget his eyes, the way they lit up, the way they seemed to swirl in a vivid light. Of course their lives had only become worse after that; Steven had made her transfer to internal affairs, Andy had sent her away. It had been a hell; a living breathing hell of a dark bubble, her life back then.

Since, she had not told Andy those words again. They were lost in her soul, she'd forgotten the words and when they came too close to the surface, she had buried them so deep down and so far away that they became lost again, made it almost impossible to retrieve them. _But now_. Now, they flowed like water, easy in their fluidity and almost tranquil in the way the passed the barrier of her lips.

She felt his sudden exhalation, the tremble in his fingers as they started tracing her skin again. Felt his breath tickle her, ghosting across her hair and landing warmly upon her. She imagined his heart beat a little more now, a little more frantic, with a little more force. She knew he loved her; he told her again and again – with words, with his hands – with his eyes.

But whereas his love seemed to envelop him fully hers was always hesitant, shy. It was always crouching, alert, waiting for disaster. Battle ready and prepared to protect; it was ingrained into her, clung to her where Andy was concerned. But it was a thing of the past; she had to learn how to let go. It was a slow process for her. She knew Andy understood – but still. He must be feeling overwhelmed at the words finally being spoken.

She smiled into his skin, kissed his nipple again; and tilted her head so she could look at him. His eyes were attached to her, vibrant and soft as they gazed back at her. A wide, roguish smile adorned his lips; the one that reminded her of meeting him for the first time, genuine and carefree.

She laid her head back down again on his chest, snuggled an arm across his abdomen, threading patterns on his side, up and down.

They lay silent but content. Lazy and warm. The world outside seemed very far away.

Andy's hands stopped again, and she looked up;

"_I'm hungry_" he lamented.

She giggled; lay her head down on his chest again, listening to his heart beating, "_We just had dinner._"

She could feel the reverberations of his grumble through his chest, shaky and rumbling.

"_You wear me out,_" he blamed her, his voice light, his hands once again sliding up and down the skin of her arms.

"_I'm too tired to contemplate getting up,"_ she mumbled into his chest, giving his skin a little nip.

"_I can carry you,_"

"_No – just no_"

"_I could sprint down, and just fetch something quickly_"

"_But I'll miss your warmth_"

"_I'll be quick_"

She giggled.

"_I can do it slow, too_"

"_Mmm, quick and slow – do you do hard?_" she countered.

Andy laughed, "_You are awful_"

"_Likewise, detective_"

He tightened his arms around her, flipped them over and she felt the heavy weight of him suddenly pressing her down into the mattress, the wonderful feel of his weight. It felt even better; cocooned into the warmth of him, swathed in his existence – the entanglement of their bodies.

"_You are wicked_," he leaned down, slowly drawing her lips into a kiss. She wriggled closer into his embrace, legs coming around him, holding him closer – pouring her soul into kissing him.

Existence was tranquil when it was just the two of them, she thought.

**-o-**

I think I OD'ed on a sugary fluffy feeling when I wrote this, hehe.

Hope you enjoyed it,

/Iso


	3. Part 2 Fragmented pieces of a heart

Since you are so sweet and your lovely reviews made me smile awkwardly silly all day, here have another chapter. =)

**-o-**

**Part II; Fragmented pieces of a heart**

**-o-**

_Disjointed and shaky – dark and constricted her heart was in frenzy, caught in between the heavy weight of her lungs; she felt breathless. _

Sharon felt covered in a sickly sensation of dirt, her mouth full and her head about to explode, the taint of a thousand small devils clinging to her skin, crawling through her skin, gnawing and gnashing at her. A direct line to her heart; paved with anxiety, sick with nausea.

The impression, the imprint of the room spun, twirling in nauseating colors and flittering between streaks and outlines, never a solid form. The impression of the world left her thoughts in jumbles, shambles and pieces that went whichever the wind blew. It left her feeling out of control, left her with a strange feeling of being stranded yet she felt outside her own body. She thought she might throw up any second now; deposit her guts on the floor for everyone to see and for everyone to gape at.

She had a reputation to uphold, her image could not be marred by her fainting and vomiting on herself – but right in this horrible moment she could not care less. Her image, her Captain Raydor persona, was forcefully relocated to another part of her mind.

Compartmentalizing; now that was something Sharon was a master in. It was like an old tool, easy to reach and grasp whenever the situation demanded it. It was too engrained into her whole line of existence, of organizing her thoughts, that sometimes it was a wonder she hadn't compartmentalized herself into different beings completely yet. It was close, though. She was standing on the edge, on the verge of jumping straight into an ocean of divided personalities. It seemed intimidating, almost frightening.

But there it was. The core of her troubles. The reason she was ready to pass out. The bane of her peaceful existence. Andy Flynn. Why, hadn't she just been here? Hadn't she just visited him in the hospital, bruised and sliced and out of it? Now, here he was again – having the nerve to grin at her.

Andy found trouble like no one else, she concluded, calculating that the highlighted bruise on his nose and under his eyes had had a lot of force behind it, a lot of dark intent behind it.

"_I met Steven,_" he told her, the familiar warmth of his cheeky smile ever-present.

Now would be the perfect time to retch, she thought darkly. That would get her out of the feeling of spinning, would focus her thoughts on something else. It would rein her in and she would be able to focus on her vomit instead of being in an orbit around the horrible feeling of that bruise and what it meant when Andy said he had met Steven. Her estranged, separated husband – who was not even supposed to be in Los Angeles – who was not supposed to go around punching whoever he felt like – who was not supposed to care about the people in her life. But then again, there was a lot of bad blood between Steven and her; and Andy was at the crux of that equation.

"_Don't worry, Ray, I didn't beat him up,_" Andy told her in a reassuringly voice, his eyes suddenly troubled as he looked at her. Yes, normally she would have spoken, said something. Usually she was not this silent. He was worried. That was okay – she was worried as well for she couldn't form the words in her head let alone force them out of her mouth.

"_Hey – it's just a bruise,_" Andy continued, his tone now soft and low, soothing.

She expelled a breath, tried to rid herself of the horror inside herself. Pushed it away, something to contemplate later, reexamine when she was alone.

"_I just got a text from Sam. That Steven attacked you. And you were in the hospital_," her voice was calm, monotone and almost cold to her own ears. Inside she was a furnace of conflicting emotions and turmoil. But separating herself, belaying one part to the outer world and another for only herself had always been second nature to her.

"_Oh_"

She hummed; but it was more an affirmative sound than it was a content little noise.

"_Sorry, just this one little bruise_," Andy joked. "_No broken bones or anything. Nothing like the last time_"

Sharon nodded, looked around the room. The last time, that had been horrible as well. But it had been work related and she had been able to work through that. There had been the whole squad of major crimes to keep her from melting into a puddle of anguish. But this; this was something else.

"_The doctors just wanted to check whether my nose was broken or not,_" Andy explained, his eyes warm and drawing her in, comforting and calm, "- _make sure my brain wasn't damaged_," he grinned.

She didn't react. She could not remember how to smile; it was surreal.

Andy stood up from the hospital bed he had been sitting on, towered over her and moved closer when she continued to be silent. She felt like a sod particle, lost and flittering around, never on solid ground. A dust mote in the air; still yet moving. He looked caught between worry and enquiry; he wanted to assuage her, embrace her she could tell.

"_What happened?_" she asked him before he could pull her into his arms. She stepped back a few strides, wanting some distance.

"_Steven saw me with Sam at Marcello's – and he freaked out, punched me right in the face,_" Andy told her, his eyes slightly narrowed as he gave her an odd look. Sam was home from university and Andy was restless because there were no murders to investigate; the two guys in her life had gone out to get take away – probably tired of her no-meat but plenty of olives salads. The text from her son had freaked her out. She had barely been able to unlock her car, let alone drive it.

"_Oh_" her voice was faint, vague. She was in a different place, trying to reign herself in, trying to compel herself to land on the ground and stop floating out of reach.

Andy tilted his head; yes, he had noticed. He always noticed when she behaved in an oddly fashion that others would miss; others usually dismissed it as her just being cold. Andy however had always been insightful when it came to her. Knew when a smile was not a smile, knew when an arched eyebrow was with humor or with sarcasm. It sometimes seemed too close for her, too intimate when he looked at her with such an intense stare, looked at her as if her mind lay bare and open for him to read. Once, back in another lifetime, it had been easy. It had been heaven whenever he had looked at her and had known exactly what she was thinking, known where her mind had gone off to. That was in another lifetime though and now it felt almost asphyxiating. She was clueless herself; she would like to figure out her own mind before he declared what was wrong with her.

"_You okay?_" his voice was tentative and gentle and she instantly felt guilty. He was always threading lightly nowadays, afraid she would flee the moment he raised his voice, afraid if she met just a little resistance she would fall apart. She knew him; knew the intricate, intrinsic workings of his being better than her own. She knew he was horrible afraid she would disappear from his life and that it was such a deep panic in his soul that he threaded lightly around her, softly and delicately, afraid if he took a wrong step their existence would blow up and leave them broken once again.

She expelled another breath, took a step forwards and borrowed herself into his arms.

She was just as panicky as him; just as afraid that he would disappear from her life. Their life was intertwined too deeply, too intensely, and unraveling the threads that held them together was a frightening thought.

Worse; now she had to talk with Steven. She winced. He didn't know Andy was back in her life – well obviously now he did. But that was a conversation she wasn't looking forward to. It was a shame; they'd managed to be civil to each other the last time when he had dropped Lena off for the weekend. Andy was never around when Lena was home with Sharon and Sam rarely spoke with his father; so the whole trouble of Andy being in her life again had been avoided. Until now.

"_Are you going to press charges?_" she asked Andy, her head buried in his shirt, the muscles of his arms a comfort around her.

"_I thought about it, but no. I understand the guy. I would have punched me too_"

"_Andy,_" she told him, her tone solid for the first time in the last hour, "_whatever Steven feels about you, and whatever you feel about yourself; this is not okay!_"

"_I know, Ray,_" he sighed, "_but I think the sight of me with Sam really freaked him out. He apologized – mostly to Sam, but still_"

"_I should have told him_ _– about us_"

"_It's alright_"

"_No, it isn't, Andy,_" her voice shook, "_this is awful._"

"_It could be worse_"

She sighed; she didn't understand why he was now defending Steven.

"_Damn; I have to come up with a cool story now, to tell Provenza and the rest of the squad_" Andy joked, kissing her temple.

She rolled her eyes but burrowed her nose deeper into his shirt, reveling in the scent of him, so familiar it comforted her.

**-o-**

"_You are doing it again,_" Sam commented, sliding down the arm of the couch and then dumping down next to her. The apartment was otherwise silent. They had just gotten home from the hospital – had driven Andy to the station; major crimes had caught a murder. Now, it was just the two of them.

"_Huh_," she replied, broken out of her thoughts as her son nudged her with his shoulder.

He sighed, "_You're overthinking mom_ – _your face is all wrinkled up_"

She looked at him, trying to gauge what mood he was in. He seemed alright.

"_A lot to think about, Sammy. It's been a shitty day_"

"_Yeah, I know_._ We should have gotten Indian instead._"

She laughed; "_It was bound to happen sometime, honey_"

"_What! Steven freaking out? He's been freaking out for years_"

Samuel smiled; his eyes vivid green like hers. Sam had always looked like her side of the family; looked like her long-lost brother. Sometimes it was downright eerie when he would look at her, the same expression upon his face that her brother used to have. Mostly, it was comforting. It brought an instant bond; a link between her past and her future.

"_Are you okay?_" she asked him, pushing strands of his hair out of his face, tweaking his nose like she used to do when he was little.

"_Shouldn't I be asking you that?_"

Her little soldier; always so tuned to her, always so mindful of her.

"_I'm not traumatized mom,_" he replied when she continued to look at him, "_I just wish – _"

He stopped, hesitant.

"_Wish what?_" she enquired, half afraid he would say something she was bound to feel guilty about. But her voice was soft.

"_Just that Andy would have – you know – done something. He just stood there, blood running from his nose. He didn't even yell back at Steven_"

She sighed.

"_I know honey,_" her voice was speculative. The Andy from her past would have knocked Steven far back into the last millennia. It was strange, somehow. "_Andy was just trying to prevent the situation from escalating. I don't think seeing Andy punching your father back would have done any of us any good._" She knew deep down Andy would have been furious, would have trembled with a need to defend himself. But foremost; Andy was conscious of himself when he was in company of children. Samuel wasn't a child but when it came to his relationship with his father he was still very much a child. Her little baby-boy. She was glad Andy had been mindful of Sam.

"_I guess you're right_"

They went silent for a bit. Contemplative and deep in thoughts.

"_What did your father say? Afterwards_. _Andy said he apologized?_"

"_He did seem genuinely sorry. I think it just sorta clicked for him._"

"_Yeah,_" she breathed. Her fault.

The doorbell rang. They shared a look.

"_He said he would stop by; to talk with you, or apologize; I don't know_"

Sharon inhaled, deeply. This was going to tap all her energy, she was sure. She ruffled Sam's hair; then went out to the foyer and opened the door for Steven.

"_Steven_," she acknowledged, trying to keep her tone cordial but she couldn't keep an undertone of reproach from it.

"_Sharon_," his voice seemed almost sheepish. His blond hair was streaked with more grey than the last time, his eyes bluer than she remembered. He looked lost.

They stood in silence watching each other; eyes shifting between wariness and hesitance.

"_You should have told me,_" Steven said then; still standing awkwardly on her doorstep.

"_I guess_," she expelled a breath, this was partly her fault. Guilt was never easy to live with; and as a constant reminder it had become an almost comforting companion in her life. Guilt; it was an emotion she could always jump to; a dark feeling she could always hang unto, "_I'm sorry. This is new; okay. I know, I should have told you. But – that's not really the easiest subject to bring up._"

"_Right. Well, I'm sorry too_."

"_Okay_"

"_Okay_"

They continued to stare at each other, waiting for the other to say something definitively.

"_How is Sam?_" Steven asked and Sharon felt almost bad for him. It was still a puzzle how that man could get along so well with his daughter but when it came to his son; he was lost. The relationship with Lena came natural to him but everything with Sam seemed stilted and awkward. She sighed.

"_He's fine_. _Why are you in LA? I thought you were in New York_; _big conference and all?_"

"_Plans changed_"

Sharon nodded.

"_Good thing, Lena's on her school trip,"_ he paused, "_I feel awful, Sharon. I've never hit anyone before!_"

He did indeed look awful; and she knew he was feeling guilty as well. Steven was not a bad person; he was actually a genuine likeable human being. She still loved him; some part of her. But it was a different love; different from her love for her children, different from the love she felt for Andy. She had to remind herself sometimes that they had actually had good times together. They had had a good life.

She took pity on him; this could all have been avoided somehow. It was cruel she knew; Steven seeing his own son with the man she'd had an affair with back when they had been married. She understood him.

"_Do you want to eat dinner with Sam, and me?_" She invited him in. Mostly for Sam. Mostly out of the thick, dense feeling of guilt settling into her soul, lounging and making itself at home once again.

She felt angry at Steven; but that was for Andy. She felt sorry for him; for Sam. But most of all she felt guilty. Dirty, guilty grime in her soul, reminding her everytime she thought she could forget. It was tattooed into her soul, in black ink and would apparently forever be there.

**-o-**

She was impatient; a rushing feeling of fire coiling in her body, taut and tensile – a force to be reckoned with. She was fire; wild and untamed – intense and yearning to burn and burn – devour whatever came in her path.

Andy opened his door, the bruises under his eyes darkened and his eyes questioning. She probably looked disheveled.

Her mouth landed on his the moment the door closed behind them; her lips plying his lower lip out into her mouth, she sucked, bit and gnawed a bit. Her hands slipped under his shirt, the seams stretching to the point of too much strain, skin against skin as she let the palm of her hands align with his abdomen, let her fingers dig into his sides – devoured the heat of his flesh.

She burned flammeous and hot-orange, ablaze with the need to uncover him, to absorb as much of his naked skin as she could – to sink into the feeling of only existing in this moment, only existing in the beat of a heart – the variability of a single heart beat loud in her ear and the silence between like a soothing intermittent respite; the need to feel time stopping.

To feel colors explode behind her eyelids and the touch of infinity as she climaxed. To hear her name on his lips – feel her soul illuminate.

"_Hey_," Andy mumbled into their kiss; lips attached and stuck.

Her hands slipped beneath his jeans, under his boxers and impatiently grasped him, every intention to slowly devour, to slowly appreciate nonexistent. She stroked him, felt his shudder pass into her skin and his low growl reverberating between her legs.

She needed him; to expel the heaviness in her heart, to clear whatever dark dirt had gotten in there. She needed him to forgive her; to grant her some form of absolution. Forgive her for her tendency to always bring him into her mess. To make her guilt disappear.

**-o-**


	4. Part 3 A beating rhythm of discord

**Part III; A beating rhythm of discord**

**-o-**

_Combustible and fiery – her heart swam in an ocean of dark vigilance; prepared to either flee or fight. _

Sharon felt heavy lethargy settling into her soul, hard and dense, dragging her down into a too familiar hole of darkness. She felt dread weary; too old to tumble back into this. This was supposed to be but a vague thing of the past wasn't it? Why did history insist on pulling them down, on pulling them into this never-ending spiral of darkness?

"_You are angry_," her statement hung in the air, splitting the air between them into opposite opposing forces. Her voice was calm but the undertone; it bore a sharp edge. She wanted to douse herself in calmness, remind herself not to fly off the handle; she wasn't sure however how to do just that. Her body reacted, her mind reacted without forethought when it came to her relationship with Andy.

Andy was fuming; but he was doing it in a non-conspicuous manner and silently. Having known him throughout every possible emotion his anger was however vividly visible to Sharon. It was hidden; like an extra layer of skin beneath the outer stratum but she saw it in the depths of his eyes, in the pose his body took and in the way his presence seemed to be on an edge. He was probably trying very hard to remain calm as well.

"_Not angry per se_," was the retort. It sounded angry, almost sullen to her ears.

Someone have mercy on her, but she didn't feel the slightest inclination to indulge him; she was past the stage of denial and was intent on going directly to fury. She narrowed her eyes, took in his restless hands and how he had yet to take a sip from his coffee.

"_I deal with enough teen drama at home and at the office, Andy!_" she reproached him, her voice silkily and dangerous. She knew the words and her tone would irk him and she knew exactly which buttons to push; and which to push too hard so he would explode. She needed him to come out from his shell and tell her why he was angry – needed him to stop with all this soft-cotton approach to every single obstacle in their relationship. He needed to be true to himself.

He merely shrugged; and then proceeded to take a slurp of his now probably lukewarm coffee.

If she didn't know him she would think he was doing it on purpose; this had gone from irksome to downright tiresome. Had he forgotten just how much this annoyed her; how it forced her to act back in the same, if not worse, fashion? Maybe he _was_ doing it on purpose, she thought indignantly.

"_So what, Provenza peed on your lunch? The chief forgot to compliment your new tie?_" her voice was sarcastic now; not calm anymore. She should stay calm, stay focused on remaining in control and in balance. But oh – this was like an avalanche waiting to happen after that first slide of snow. The underground, their foundation was rocky, it wasn't compact at all. They had been building themselves an unstable fortress, hauling snow and snow atop the ground beneath them, piling and piling without a thought to construction, and it was inevitable that it would eventually crumble down. They were standing on unstable ground, tremors below and between them promising, warning about what was bound to occur. She didn't care now, however; she wanted him to explode.

Andy smiled at her but it was painted with an askew semi derisive sneer; it looked comical, she mused. He was probably giving himself an aneurism trying hard not to appear angry. She felt like laughing; this was absurd. They couldn't even have a normal quarrel; but was instead caught in this circus of repressing their inner self afraid the other would be hurt. It was beyond absurd. If they let their fear guide them they would only end up back into that dark world of estrangement, worse they would poison each other till they were both too rotten, too full of dark dirt, to do anything else.

She didn't want repressed anger; she wanted it full-blown.

"_Hmm_," she harrumphed, turned her voice to that syrupy clang that set people on edge and made them unsure of where they had her, "_I imagine your not-angry-per-se has something to do with me? Otherwise your mouth would have blabbed about it nonstop already._" She stopped, looked him in the eye; "_Spit it out_"

The words seemed to hit him full-force and she could feel the air going out of him. She watched mesmerized as the hidden anger within him emerged, came alive within a new intake of breath and glared back full force at her. This was more like it – more normal, healthier.

"_Shit Sharon; stop being obnoxious,_" his voice shook, his hands had stopped fiddling and his coffee was once again forgotten. There was now a full fire in the depths of his eyes.

"_Sure, when you stop being insufferable,_" this was like coming back to that favorite childhood place you'd forgotten existed; so familiar it almost hurt, bittersweet with nostalgia.

"_Pah,"_ he half-sneered, "_you're trying to get me to blowup, why! You want us to yell at each other? Fight?_"

"_I want you to tell me what's wrong, you idiot. I don't want you to walk around on eggshells as if I'm gonna fall apart,_" she told him, her voice vehement and her mind gone into that drain, slowly pouring into that black abyss that her soul was still connected with. "_I'm not going to fall apart, Andy!_"

"_You seem to be falling apart now,_" his voice was dry and caustic; she had not heard it directed her way in a long time.

She glared at him; goddamnit she was on the brink of leaving. If this continued for much longer she would either resort to words that should never be spoken between them or leave him in the middle of the café. Why were they still so enveloped by their past? Why were their life together so fickle; like a rollercoaster inevitable going up and inevitably going down. She longed for stability sometimes.

"_You're so passive-aggressive,_" she breathed to him; annoyed at him and annoyed at herself.

"_And you are such a b – _" he stopped, abrupt, horror suddenly flashing in his eyes.

"_What – a bitch!_"

"_I was not gonna say – ,_" he started, his voice now apologetic and he was once again threading lightly. Sharon interrupted him, "_This is about work, isn't it?_"

They both fell silent, the truth of her words etched into his eyes and the set lines of his hesitant small smile. It was always about work; that seemed to be the root of all their problems. She sometimes wondered if they had worked in different professions whether there would be less animosity, less complications in their relationship. They would never have met of course; but that was inconsequential to her what-if imagery. Often, she found herself imagining how their life would have looked had she stayed in robbery/homicide.

"_For the umpteenth time, _Lieutenant_,_" she told him stressing his rank, tired and still annoyed, "_I still cannot disclose the nature of my investigation._"

His small smile disappeared and his eyes narrowed; and he leaned close and whispered to her in a growl; "_Sharon; you are being absolutely horrible. Betcha you enjoy parading around my squad and making everyone question themselves! Why can't you just tell me what you're doing?_"

She rolled her eyes, and tried to dismiss the rumble of his voice so close to her skin and how its intensity shot straight to her core, and ignited what could only be arousal. This was not supposed to turn her on; this was not supposed to be anything but an angry dispute.

"_Why don't we just tell everyone about us?_" she countered, "_then I wouldn't be able to investigate major crimes at all and all our problems would disappear into thin air! Hell; I could retire; that would work as well!_"

He looked taken aback; and suddenly he was in her face, eyes flashing and his hands just inches away from shaking her, she could tell. Her eyes caught unto his lips, they suddenly fascinated her.

"_Hey; I'm not the one responsible for that,_" his voice was livid.

She didn't understand him at first. Her confusion must have shown for he continued, still so close to her, his angry warmth embracing her, his eyes so close she could see the tints and specs of different dark colors.

"_You're afraid someone will file a complaint if we go public. You've got your image to think about!_"

She felt as if someone had thrown her into a lake of cold, freezing water; then gripped her and kept her head under for too long. This was spiraling beyond what she had imagined.

"_What!_" she spluttered, "_You're the one afraid your squad will find out!_"

They both stared at each other; still close and still engaged in the depths of emotions flickering between them; the intensity like electricity. Powerful and dangerous. The feeling felt captivating somehow; just the look of him felt captivating. It was invading her senses, pushing away her anger with something just as intense.

She barely saw the sudden bright display of transformation in his eyes before his mouth was against hers; lips forceful as he first plundered her lips, then slowed down, caressed her lips instead. She felt a giggle in the back of her throat; almost like a humming, the vibration caught between them.

When she caught his eyes again; her lips cold as Andy withdrew his own, she found them to be warm. She smiled back at him. Yes, they were both being obnoxious and ridiculous.

Work was shoved away; it always created problems and obstacles for them. She briefly wondered if they would ever really talk about it; but she hadn't the energy to bring it up herself or keep talking about it.

Easier to just let it go; forget it existed.

Easier to just kiss Andy; drink her coffee and feel him being close.

**-o-**

"_Honey, you seem tense_," Gavin told her, rubbing her shoulders, his long spidery fingers encompassing a hidden talent for massaging her worries away.

"_Loooong day… work was hell… Andy…_," she mumbled but stopped at Andy's name. How to explain?

"_Uh, you guys had a tiff,_" Gavin squealed and Sharon wasn't sure whether he found that exciting or terrible.

She turned her upper body around, eyeing him. Yes, he had that special glint in his eyes; he found '_tiffs_' amusing. She sighed.

"_Yeah_," she replied, turned back again and relaxed into his hands working her shoulders.

"_Hmm, well you _have_ been bitchy lately – more than usual_"

"_Why is it that you instantly assume I'm to blame!_" she exclaimed, the moment she heard her own voice though she cringed; it sounded too much like whining.

"_Honey,_" Gavin began in his lawyer-voice "_Andy's a simply guy. You, however, are too complex to figure out. The poor guy probably said the wrong thing and you took it the wrong way – and went full-blown Raydor on him, huh_"

She harrumphed. Why couldn't her friend be on her side?

"_Andy's not simple_," she defended him; not ready to go into the other mess Gavin had said.

"_Not like that_", Gavin tsk'ed, "_He's simple when it comes to you. He's so deeply in love, it's written so plainly on his face he might as well just have it tattooed on his forehead._"

Sometimes Gavin annoyed her; and sometimes he both amused her and annoyed her at the same time.

He continued; "_Now you, my dear. You are never easy to decipher; and I think you even have troubles in that arena yourself. Ipso facto, I'm sure you were a bitch._"

"_Maybe,_" she relented. That was the trick with Gavin; he liked to be right. Things went more smoothly when he felt he was right and everyone agreed.

She smiled to herself; at the least the _tiff_ had been somewhat resolved. They had ended up enjoying their cold coffees and behaved reasonable towards each other as they talked about subjects that were so far away from work-related subjects as possible. They had made out like teenagers in the restroom of the café, trying to absorb as much of each other as possible. Maybe it was their way of saying sorry, of apologizing to each other.

Gavin stilled his massage.

"_You're smiling! Why are you smiling?_" he sounded both suspicious and excited. He probably expected outrageous gossip now.

She grinned; "_I need more bitchy-clothes… And shooes. My favorite broke._"

You could always distract Gavin with fashion and shopping; it was like dangling candy in front of starving children.

Gavin laughed, "_We'll go shopping then. I need new shoes as well. But darling; I'll expect to hear all about how you made up_." He kissed her cheek, his voice elated; "_Uh; we should buy fancy lingerie!_"

The sneaky devil, she thought with affection.

**-o-**

Hope you're still enjoying the story =)


	5. Part 4 History in your blood

**Part IV; History in your blood, darkness in your heart.**

**-o-**

_Dark and heavy – poison vivid in her blood; her heart stuck in a downwards spiral of darkness; it was pulling her down. _

Sharon was doused in something indescribable. Something that hung on her, clung to her skin, was being absorbed through her being and soaked her to the bone – but she couldn't grasp the intent behind the feeling. It was outside her control, beyond her reach and comprehension; it just existed in her. It was familiar, yet felt like a stranger. She had woken to this feeling but she acknowledged it had been lying in wait in her, unbeknownst and hidden until today – until it emerged from the depths and reared its ugly head.

Work was dull. A blur of stacks of tedious reports, half-cold coffee and an intense need to be anywhere but at work. It was one of those days where her detectives gave her a wide berth and avoided causing too much chaos. She was thankful for their discretion otherwise she would have to resort to making an apologetic round the next day, explaining she had been a bitch for no other apparent reason than that she had felt like it. No other reason than that it had stuck her fancy. They knew her, her little group of detectives and had become adept at reading the smallest signs of trouble; they were the only ones capable apparently. Maybe, that was the root of all her problems with interoffice resentment – people didn't know when to just let her be; let her bitch in peace. Her detectives knew it was better to let her steam in peace, knew not to poke the dragon in the eye so to speak. Something everyone else had yet to figure out. She grinned darkly; not even when she literally told them to stay out of her way.

Oh she wished her coffee was warm. It was cold now and tasted like a tart, soaked dishtowel. But if she ventured outside her office she was bound to stumble into some unfortunate soul who would suffer for no reason.

There was a purpose to her reputation that went beyond mere happenstance. Most would think it would be awful to be both feared and hated throughout central; but every single officer knew her name and every single one knew to stay out of her way; knew she meant business when she came calling. They knew to tread lightly when she smiled a certain way. It was a persona she had carefully crafted, built it so it fit her intention; it had kept her from falling apart when she had first transferred. It had kept her in internal affairs and it had awarded her with the promotion to captain. Without it she wouldn't have survived; not professionally or personally. It had kept her sane in the thirteen years Andy and she had been separated; and now it was a comfortable, familiar friend you couldn't get rid of even if you wanted. It was like a companionesquely facade that surrounded her, warm and comfortable, guarded her and warded off what would otherwise make her waver and stumble.

Sharon was content with being the wicked witch, for her there was a harmony to it.

However when she was both bitchy and contemplative and doused in this peculiar feeling, there was just that hint in the air that spoke of things to come; of everything being in turmoil – it hinted at something that was not quite in harmony. It frightened her.

On some level she knew what was wrong – very deep down, buried in between memories of a marriage filled with guilt and that long-lost partnership that had gone to hell because of darkness; in between dwelled the root of her problem today. She knew that but she did not acknowledge it. If she accepted it that would mean making room for those two other dark hidden treasures as well, allowing them to resurface – to be examined and thought about.

Of course she knew what had her on the brink today despite telling herself she didn't; it was heavy. She was too familiar with that heaviness. Denial had a tendency to weight everything down. It was gelatinous and so full to bursting; it was in her blood, in her mind and in her heart; but oh she wished it would just disappear altogether.

Fear, her mind whispered – stark, tainted vile fear.

Thus she was on the defensive. Barricading herself, building a fortress that would be impenetrable and she hid the dark, familiar feeling so deep she had trouble remembering what had caused this in the first place.

_Fear_ – of falling into a very dark place again; fear the threads would unravel between her and Andy and leave them shattered, afraid work would leave them on opposing sides in a battle that really had no place in their life.

She bit down on her lower lip; stood abruptly. Her office felt oppressive and humid; perfect for all her ruminating and dark reflections. She strode out of her office, on the hunt for warm coffee. She rued whoever she might meet.

**-o-**

"_Mmmm, this is perfect,_" Andy expressed with more enthusiasm than she could handle at the moment. His eyes were glued to his plate of spaghetti full of content. That man and his marinara sauces; sometimes he really left her perturbed.

They were sitting in an Italian restaurant; trying to pretend everything was perfect. It was but it wasn't. Sharon felt on edge; fidgety and slightly anxious. She felt torn. Andy either hadn't noticed or he didn't feel bothered by it. But she knew; there was something she was missing. Something he expected her to know, something he was waiting for her to figure out. And in the meantime he would pretend everything was bliss; it put her on the defensive. He knew this; and yet he did it. Oh; it annoyed her to no end.

His goofy smile annoyed her now. He was enamored with his damn spaghetti and it annoyed her. Why did they always end in up in this passive-aggressive circle? Why couldn't they talk; like a normal couple?

But then again, she surmised, their communicational skills in regards to each other had never been that great. If they had been able to communicate well, she reflected, they would have had a very different life. The thirteen years of separation, of not speaking to each other and silently hating each other; they would never had existed if they had been able to communicate. If they had had a normal approach to communicating with each other they would have been able to talk about that awful undercover mission.

It was buried so deep; it was in the top of their shared list of things that they never spoke about; right next to why they had had an affair and why they were caught up in what-if's and wishes. Next to the long buried lists of alcoholism and pregnancy, adultery and dark self-images.

Why, if they had talked genuinely and without any darkness and guilt they would probably have been married by now and not still treading waters in a dark sea of uncompromising fear. Andy wouldn't have resorted to drinking all his problems away; she wouldn't have run away from all her problems. Hell, if they'd talked about their life at all, together and with each other, she would have left Steven for him, regardless of her pregnancy and regardless of the policy against interoffice romances.

That was then however; now everything was different. But still so much the same. The past held her back; it was an intrinsic, almost unconscious part of her – she couldn't deny it. Andy seemed to have come full circle; she was lagging behind however.

She glared at her own plate – she wasn't hungry.

"_So, Provenza grilled me _all_ day,_" Andy laughed around a mouthful of his precious marinara sauce and spaghetti, his eyes twinkling and his smile full of mischief. How did he do it? Pretend to not notice anything; pretend the world was floating on a cloud of content? " - _wanted to know why I was making lovey-dovey eyes at wicked witch._"

Andy seemed to relate to everything; easily adjusting and simply accepting. She wished she could be more like him but something held her back; she was always hesitant.

She liked to keep her work-life separate from her personal life; but she couldn't seem to manage even such a single thing. Provenza lurking around every corner, Chief Johnson running around on floors not even with a remote connection to major crimes, Chief Pope giving her weird looks and even her own squad was starting to contemplate why Lieutenant Flynn was ever present in the break room connected to FID headquarters. The problem with Andy though; he enveloped her life fully, crossing carelessly from being a lieutenant aggravating that she was investigating his squad to suddenly tenderly declaring he loved her! How was he managing to flow through her life, fluid, content and worry free?

She pushed her fork around on her plate, sipped her water just to do something.

"_Are you lost in your thoughts again?_" he asked when she had been silent for too long. She looked up and his eyes were warm but alert. He knew her too well.

"_Just thinking_," she replied. She could do passive-aggressive just as magnificently as he could. Deep down she didn't understand this need to push him, to tip him off his balance; why was she so intent on putting him on the defensive. Why couldn't she just ignore whatever had nagged her since their little meeting in the hallway at work today. But it was inherent in her; this need and this urge to test him.

He narrowed his eyes, "_You seem irritated?_"

She hummed, tilted her head and continued to half-glare at him.

Yes, there was that glint of darkness in the depths of his eyes; like the awakening of a hidden creature, getting ready to battle. Why was she still testing him? Why was he so calm about every facet of their lives?

Her happiness had disappeared into a dark hole today; slipping beyond her reach, slithering away into a very dark place. Why; she had no clue – and it grated her, gnashed and gnawed at her. Andy seemed to have everything figured out! And she felt left in the dark, clueless and out of control.

"_Okay_," he said, his tone vibrating with restraint, "_you are mad. At me_?"

"_Yes_. _No_" she replied, knowing the words were just as confused as she was.

He rolled his eyes, an angry set to his mouth.

"_Geeez, Sharon; you are like a hurricane today! First that thing with the Chief, and now me!_"

She smiled; though there was nothing in her smile but a predatory darkness; it was the one she had perfected for use at work whenever she had to investigate someone and she knew they would be aggressive in their approach towards her. It was the one that kept everyone on their toes and paved the way for her to do her job.

"_You can't bet on two horses, Andy; you are either with me or against me_!"

"_What is that supposed to mean?_"

"_It means I'm tired; tired of everyone thinking I've got ulterior motives. I am not trying to make life difficult for people,_" she exhaled, "_I'm doing my job!_"

"_This again!_" he exclaimed in a growl, his voice lowered as he tried not to yell, as he tried to appear calm.

"_Yes, _this_ again!_"

She took another slurp from her water, watched as he observed her his eyes a dark brown, obscure in their almost blackness.

"_Ray, the only time we got along, work-wise, was a long time ago – back when we actually worked together. Can't we just let work be work; forget it, put it behind us?_" he was still on edge, on the defensive, the timbre of something dark just beneath the surface.

She laughed.

"_Andy, the only reason we got along back then was because we were all shiny and young; we had no baggage. The moment we encountered a little trouble we fell apart._"

"_So what; you want to lament about the past?_"

"_No,_" she fingered the cloth on their table, "_I don't know._ _I want less hostility – less reproach from you. More understanding_."

He probably wasn't aware of it but he was fiercely protective of his squad and his chief. He was fiercely protective of her as well, Sharon amended, but when she collided with major crimes everything felt surreal. It felt like something emerging from underground; cold and wet; not something that lighted her up. No, it dragged her down, pulled her underground as well and left her heaving for air. But all she inhaled was dirt, and it got stuck in her throat – it was difficult to breathe, to exist then.

Why couldn't they work together like normal human beings?

Andy was silent as he studied her – his eyes indecipherable. His marinara sauce was forgotten, spaghetti in all likelihood lukewarm now.

"_Okay,_" he relented.

"_Okay,_" she replied.

The rest of their dinner was eaten in silence. She didn't mind; otherwise if she was forced to speak she would retort to insults; she would turn even more aggressive.

**-o-**

"_You've been thinking about the past today,_" his voice was soft, slithering across her cheek, his mouth attached to the words. His embrace was warm and naked; it soothed her.

She hummed.

"_Sharon,_" he tilted her face towards him even though she could barely make out the outline of his face in the darkness of her bedroom, "_Ray, we have to let go. I know it's hard. I feel fear too. Afraid you are going to leave._" He paused, his hands cradling her face so gently she felt ready to cry, "- _afraid this won't work. Afraid we are going to end up just like last time. But you know what?_"

She traced her palm against his shoulder, avoiding his eyes.

"_You are no longer that person. I'm not that person. We are different from back then_. _This, now; it's not tainted. There's nothing to feel guilty about. Okay? Nothing._"

"_Okay_," she mumbled, half mesmerized by his voice and half astounded he was able make her feel suddenly light and soft; vivid and bright. Just simple words and his touch; and her mind was back in focus – out of her own dark, doubting pool of misery.

"_We are communicating now, right_"

"_Mm-hm,_" she agreed.

"_I'm not drinking_ –_ you are not married anymore_. _We work in different divisions_"

She nodded and felt the air leave her lungs with a little less tension.

"_I love you. Simple. You love me. Simple._"

She squeezed his arm, tangled her legs with his, her calves in between his. He calmed her. Pulled her back from whatever darkness she sometimes found herself in. She snuggled into him; mostly content.

Andy would catch her if she fell, pull her back to the surface; it was a reassuring thought.

**-o-**


	6. Part 5 Cardiac heaven

**Part V; Cardiac Paradise **

**-o-**

_Soft and light – weightless; her heart left its place in her thorax and floated around in the air around her; exposed and vulnerable yet inviting and warm. _

Sharon felt swathed in a tranquil cloud, tendrils of transparent peace holding her up, guiding her and enfolding her. It was ridiculous; but oh god what a wonderful feeling. The sensation was unexplainable, unjustifiable. It was not unlike that sudden surge of absurd exhilaration that hits you out on a dark night and you tilt your head, stare up into the dark abyss of the night sky twinkling with a thousand small lights. Sharon felt like this; serene and bubbly happy. For no apparent reason but the many stars in the sky; that Andy's eyes glittered like the expanse of the night sky was no coincidence.

"_You know, Provenza's lurking – with a funny expression on his face,_" she told Andy, her voice a pleasant timbre of barely contained laughter.

They were standing just outside the coffee room, vending machines on their left and the view into the work area of major crimes a wide expanse. She had stumbled into Andy after a pleasant albeit rather awkward chat with Chief Johnson; he had caught her wrist and stopped her midstride with a smile. Their talk was inconspicuous and there was more space between them than usual; but apparently Provenza saw something that made him curious, something that made him suspicious.

"_Wha-ah_," Andy mumbled and Sharon gripped his sleeve before he turned around and gave away everything.

"_Don't turn around; he'll know we are unto him then,_" she held unto his sleeve, watching out of the corner of her eye how the old lieutenant narrowed his eyes in confusion. Provenza was doing a very poor job of trying to hide his interest, Sharon mused. He could have hid behind something – he could have averted his direct stare; instead he was awfully obvious. She found it funny; wondered how conspicuous he would be undercover - or if his poor skills of eavesdropping were just because of his buddy Flynn. Again, nothing but this light feeling residing in her body and her mind, affecting her with an intent she couldn't quite figure out. It did not matter however.

Andy touched her shoulder, gaining her attention; "_He's what?_"

"_He's watching us – coming closer and closer._"

"_Why?_"

"_He's not my partner – you go ask him!_"

"_Ha – no, thank you. I'll only get a lecture on the wicked witch…" _

She slapped his arm playfully and felt an inner glee alight when she caught Provenza simultaneously trying to glare harder and inch closer; he seemed almost desperate in his attempt to eavesdrop.

"_Is he still watching?_"

"_Yeah_"

"_Geez, doesn't he have work to do or something_," Andy reproached a strain in his quirky smile; he was probably trying hard not to crane his neck and just have a little look. Or he felt genuinely annoyed at the intrusion. She had never really grasped the relationship between Andy and Provenza; they seemed like good partners most of the time but sometimes they only reinforced grumbling and sarcasm in each other – behaving like two old grumpy, angry men, she mused.

"_Why does he dislike me so much?_" Sharon asked her voice soft. The question was half in humor but she genuinely would like to know.

Sure, everyone in major crimes did not particular like her in the beginning; but she had sort of circumvented that aspect of antagonism. Tao spoke pleasantly – if albeit sometimes too much – to her now; Sanchez had even smiled at her yesterday and held the door for her. Gabriel had returned her hello. Sharon had even reached an understanding with the chief; not quite friends, not quite enemies.

She liked the woman; understood her on some level and knew that in order to survive in this world, in the LAPD; you had to don a strong persona, surround yourself in an image of strength and command. When you were a woman this often translated into coldness, bitchiness; especially in a man's world like the police force. The higher you climbed on the ladder of rank the more bicthy you had to become.

"_He grumbles now and then about some seminar or other you had him carted off to_," Andy answered and she could tell he had a hard time preventing himself from turning on the spot; he obviously wanted to turn around and glare at his partner.

She laughed in a low-key, "_That's eons ago. Is he still pissed about that?_"

"_Oh, he can hold a grudge, that one._"

"_Hmm,_" she agreed.

Provenza was really snooping now, edging closer and trying to surreptitiously look at them, a case file in hand as he pretended to be occupied.

"_Do you think he'll pass out if I kissed you?_" she asked in a sweet voice, biting her lower lip and trying not to imagine the horrible look that would certainly cross the old mans' face.

Andy nearly choked on air, "_Shit; he'll have a coronary_"

He tilted his head and then said; "_But I wouldn't mind_" with a cheeky smile. He even wagged an eyebrow.

She rolled her eyes, "_I betcha you won't_"

They laughed albeit softly. The old man would surely have a heart attack if his buddy and the wicked witch suddenly burst out in fits of loud laughter. Sharon bit her lower lip; why this was positively comical.

"_Do you think other people notice? But just don't mention it?_" Andy asked his voice suddenly speculative, his eyes gazing into her.

"_Notice what?_" she was too busy watching Provenza and his antics to really reflect upon Andy's question, to notice the sudden thoughtful tone his voice took.

Andy poked her shoulder, and she turned her attention back to him, his eyes full of mischief now.

"_Do you think anybody knows – about us?_ _Do you think they can tell?_"

She found the question poignant; something about it seemed to course through her with a tensile strength.

"_I don't know – why do you ask?_"

He shrugged – too casually.

She narrowed her eyes. He wanted something from her, she could tell. Wanted her to understand something crucial.

"_Andy_?" she questioned him, her voice inquisitive. He liked to drop small hints here and there for her; he had yet to understand she liked to just be told the truth; hard and cold facts laid out in front of her. That she could deal with. This one-clue-here-and-another-there mode; it drove her slowly insane.

"_Not now,_" Andy told her his forehead creased; and he turned around before she could utter another word. He waved at Provenza, "_Hey_ – _guess what! The Captain likes baseball_"

Sharon rolled her eyes; did he expect her to read his thoughts? He was always so damn emotive at work, the slightest things putting him on the defensive, the smallest little details he hung unto. Whereas Sharon, she was cold and distant; she'd been told this repeatedly. But she had to guard herself otherwise the wolves would eat her alive. You didn't make a career in internal affairs without ruffling quite a few feathers; and she knew her presence alone was able to put everyone on the defensive. She took pride in it.

"_Lieutenant,_" she greeted Provenza who skulked up to them.

"_Captain,_" he acknowledged with a grudging smile that wasn't really a smile.

"_Well,_" she said, giving Andy a significant glare, "_I'm off to file reports, see you around_"

As she turned on her heels and marched back to her office she heard Provenza exclaim; "_What are you doing, Flynn?_" in a voice she couldn't quite decipher.

She felt torn between a laugh and a sigh.

**-o-**

It was strange, she mused, but they did most of their serious conversations in bed. Something about their tangled bodies and naked skin; it stripped them of misconceptions and bared them to the bone; they were able to talk then, genuinely without barriers, without aggravating each other. It was easy, just the two of them, closed in a world of their own. Then, everything was simple.

It had a certain charm to it; a combined strangeness and charm. It was a safe haven for them; whatever transpired between them it would somehow resolve itself the moment their skin touched and they lay still in the darkness, the only sounds that of lungs being filled and drained, of hearts beating with a consistent frequency. When existence was just the two of them she felt their bodies hummed in tune to each other, harmony tangled into the space between them. She sometimes imagined this rhythm in the beat-to-beat of his heart, her ear close to his heart and his skin warm against her cheek. She imagined the thudding of his heart – like a transcendental drumming – resonated within herself, percolated into her being and settled into her soul, into her heart; connected them.

"_You want to tell people at work? About us?_" her voice was soft; she was not sure if it was a statement or a question. But she had been ruminating all day; about their little meeting outside major crimes and his behavior. About what he wanted from her; it suddenly seemed obvious to her when she figured it out. She berated herself; she should have guessed it months ago – it was so obvious. This is what he had been walking around with for months, never saying it out aloud to her but instead dropping small hints. Of course he wanted their relationship to be out in the open in all aspects of their lives and not only in the privacy outside work. It was beyond obvious, and she felt like slapping herself; why had she not figured this out eons ago? It had been right in front of her nose; almost screaming in her face.

"_I want to tell everyone about you,_" he replied, his usual smile present in his voice. She snuggled out of his embrace, landed on her back and stared up into the ceiling. His head followed her motion, coming to rest just above her heart, his weight trapping her and holding her in a comfortable embrace – long arms around her waist.

She tangled her fingers into his hair. She felt light, still. The notion of people at work finding out about their relationship; it didn't really frighten her like it used to. It didn't really worry her as much as she had expected. As long as it didn't interfere with their happiness; or their work ethic.

"_Oh god; they are all going to have a heart attack,_" she commented.

He grinned, "_yeah_" and it tickled her skin, vibrating into her. She felt him tighten his grip around her, lips brushing her skin.

"_Pope will lecture us,_" she declared.

"_He's a hypocrite_," Andy countered in a mumble, his lips now tingling against her skin, against her right breast. She felt warm and aroused.

"_Provenza will feel betrayed,_" she warned with a lazy smile.

"_He won't mind when I tell him all about you,_" his voice was sultry and it shot straight through her skin, burned in her blood; her stomach quivering and the heat between her legs intensified. She felt embodied by an overall fascinated sensation of tingling.

"_No. No gossiping about me with that old coot_"

Andy laughed; a hand strayed from her abdomen, went down her hips in a slow progression before coming down to her inner thighs, possessive and tracing patterns of promise. She had trouble breathing, trouble concentrating. Her legs fell a little more apart; her chest heaved a sigh of anticipation – her hand tangled further in his hair.

"_Chief Johnson will have a thing or two to say about it,_" she ventured.

"_She will be happy. Now, she can send _me_ off to deal with you when you are being difficult_"

His mouth was now attached to her skin; wet tingling lips tracing invisible patterns – warm as they neared her nipple. God she felt on fire; a slowly almost torturous burn.

"_So I become your problem!_"

"_Yeah – my very own, very special problem,_" he hummed in a little growl; it made her hitch for air.

When his mouth closed around her nipple and sucked it into his warmth, intense and electrifying, she let out a shaky breath. Her fingers closed tight in his hair, her legs fell even more apart and a quiet, soft moan left her lips. His hand was playing with her curls, with her outer labia, barely any pressure at all. It was too slow; too gentle – too measured. Oh – she wanted it all at once; in a rush of elation and desire; she wanted it to wreck through her body in a surge of burning electricity; not this slow, slow ember.

"_You cannot _manhandle_ me when I'm difficult, Lieutenant_," her tone was breathless, her body tingling and her mind a puddle of cotton, a sensation of leaving her own body overwhelming her.

Andy's mouth moved to her other breast, teeth grazing across her chest, soothing with wet kisses. He looked up, "_I can handle you just fine_" and before she could voice her concern or her aggravation about that claim he leaned towards her breast again and bit down and sucked her nipple hard into his mouth. It surged through her flesh, this tensile force of excitement and desire; and she couldn't form words but only a soft whimper.

Her legs moved of their own accord, further and further apart, her hips sought him out and when his fingers plied her open and caressed her entrance – then slid into her; she was on another plane of existence. She felt she was on the brim; ready to combust any moment now.

His thumb on her clitoris didn't help; he was going to drive her insane – in a very slow, excruciating fashion.

She whimpered when his mouth found hers; he was so warm, so entangled into her – filled her up with liquid fire. He was kissing her, swallowing her soul into ecstasy, drawing the breath from her lungs; stealing her heart and numbing her mind; flaming the wild fire within her.

She reveled in it.

**-o-**


	7. Part 6 Hope in your blood

**Part VI; Hope in your blood **

**-o-**

_Penetrating, pulsating – a glorious sensation of delight. Her heart settled into being happy; easily._

Sharon felt high – felt punch drunk. There was no force holding her firmly on solid ground; she flittered in the air, weightless and without a thought to crashing or falling. The feeling was so all-consuming and so whole and full; it felt like a beacon of light inside her.

It was not unlike the sudden burst of elation you sometimes feel at seeing the sun set in an ocean of fiery colors, looking like a sea of flames and arrays of light catching on the colors of something mysterious as they paint dark clouds. This feeling painted her mind; with light and flames of vivid colors – with a hue of hope and happiness in her blood. Why any moment now and she would embarrass herself; someone would see the wide smile on her face and conclude she had finally cracked. She laughed to herself.

It was out in the open now; completely exposed and no longer half-hidden. Her personal life and her work-life now fully integrated – assimilated. Their relationship had been disclosed; it seemed almost surreal but she found it to be a marvelous form of absurdism. It some ways it felt as if the whole world had stopped turning and had gone off in a new titillating spin; yet in other ways it felt as if the world merely had righted itself and was back to normal. She had never imagined Andy and her would someday come to this; it had always seemed so fanciful and farfetched to believe that someday everything would fall into line and everything would be content in their relationship. So steadfast and unwavering that they could tell it to the whole world.

She remembered back when they had first met – before anything had happened between them – she had sometimes indulged in these fancies, wondering about how a relationship would work between them. However, he had been her friend and her partner; it had merely been daydreaming. And when they finally had gotten together it had been under the guise of secrecy and adultery. She remembered how fascinating and captivating it had been; not content though and not happy. It had been blissful but in a painful way. It had been dark and painful but it had still drawn them closer to each other. Now, however, there were no hindrances and no immediate darkness to pull them under. Now, there was just balance and harmony.

Everyone knew now. They had disclosed the nature of their relationship to their immediate superiors but it was something that would not stay behind closed doors or just on the record; it was something that would fly through central, from lips to ears – and in the end everyone would know.

The police liked to gossip; there was no circumventing that. Hell; Andy and her had done practically nothing else but gossip the three years they had gone to Joe's for coffee. Usually she would join her two boys; detectives Elliot and Jones, when they sat in their conference room with coffee and candy after a long day of work; they had plenty of gossip to tell and she knew they enjoyed telling their captain all about it. They knew others rarely gossiped with her.

Now she met other detectives in the hallways and she couldn't decide whether they knew or not. Sometimes she caught their eyes lingering longer on her but she couldn't be sure whether it was because of her new relationship status or if it was because of her silly smile. Or maybe they just liked to stare at the wicked witch. But she felt the change when she approached others; it hung in the air invisible but somehow tangible. She could almost feel the questioning in their eyes when they looked at her, feel their curiosity mingling with their apprehension when she talked to them or looked their way.

She imagined some felt Flynn the Brute as he was sometimes viewed fitted just perfectly with the Wicked Witch; she grinned – what a pair they made. She imagined no one had really considered she had a life outside upholding the rules and making everyone's lives difficult. They were probably imagining what she looked like naked; her inner voice snickered. It did not bother her, she was content. It thrummed and singed in her blood calm and light.

Her team told her the gossip was spreading through central like a horrible contagious disease. Sharon mused that there really wasn't anything else to talk about at the moment. So naturally, sudden details about the wicked witch's personal life would feel like water to all the drowning gossip-hoarding detectives. It still didn't bother her.

She wouldn't change; and she looked forward to seeing the look in people's eyes when they figured this out. Why, Captain Raydor could be in love and still be the bitch everyone detested. The wicked witch could still get laid and be a total bitch, her snide inner voice sassed. She still remembered how seven years back a sergeant had told her if she got laid regularly she wouldn't have a stick up her ass. He had been angry she had forced him to take two weeks 'vacation' – she still remembered the sudden silence in the gang unit; how everyone had cringed at the comment even though she knew they were all thinking it. She had smiled; her dark bitchy smile that let everyone know she was above them. Then told the sergeant that maybe she liked a stick up her ass – told him that maybe he should make that a three week mandatory leave. A few had laughed and the sergeant had shut his mouth, glowering and giving her a sullen look. She was used to it, to the negativity and the resentment; a comment couldn't throw her off.

Sometimes, she mused, people forgot that a person could contain more than one side in life – they forgot the complexities of human beings. They forgot she was a human being and not a police robot with a rule book. She looked forward to ruining their expectations of her.

She smiled to herself.

She felt full of energy; ready to envelope some unfortunate poor idiot into her world of happy sarcasm. Andy would call her gleeful and vindictive if he knew her thoughts; he was probably right. But it didn't matter, she was soaring.

In reality it was more like striding; striding down hallways in the search for coffee. They had run out of coffee in FID – again! – so she ventured out. She stalked in her high heels, her mind on coffee and her body thrumming along, its happiness evident in her smile. She couldn't stop it; it kept turning her lips upwards, tugging till it was a wide smile. Shit; she was going to scare someone; they would think she was plotting something. They would think she was up to something sinister, she thought. It only made her smile more.

She ended up in the break room on the floor of major crimes.

Narcotics break room, only a floor down from internal affairs, had run out of coffee as well. But she had taken an almost inner delight in the confused eyes of gruff men following her progression through the squad room of narcotics. She could almost sense their relived outtake of breath as she left without an enquiry into someone's conduct. She had given them a little wave and a smile; one of them had waved back before he caught himself.

Now she sauntered into another break room, tinkering with the thought of what if Andy was here. Oh – that would be nice. She could tell him about – but before she could finish her little daydream she was abruptly shaken out of it; she saw the lone form of Chief Johnson drinking coffee.

"_Chief Johnson_"

"_Captain Raydor_"

They acknowledged each other almost too politely; Sharon pointed to the coffee machine, "_Just here for the coffee_"

"_Oh - _," the chief said, "_Well, help yourself_"

Sharon did; there was still warm coffee on. She poured a generous amount into a big mug; the flavor strong and welcome when she took a small sip. She turned her attention back to the other woman who was studying her with an inscrutable look in her brown eyes.

"M_mm, good coffee,_" she smiled at the chief.

The chief nodded, "_Yes_"

They studied each other in silence for another moment; it was on the brink of something. Either turning awkward or meaningful; Sharon couldn't decide.

"_So, Lieutenant Flynn – I mean Andy, told me about him and you,_" the sentence seemed almost awkward when it left the other woman's lips; she looked slightly uncomfortable as well.

Sharon smiled at the chief, not sure what to reply to that statement, so she just gave a miniature nod, tilted her head to the side and regarded the blond woman.

"_I didn't know you used to work in homicide_," the Chief said with a bemused, curious smile.

It surprised Sharon; she had expected something entirely different from that woman.

"_Yeah; Andy was my partner. We started on the force at the same time_"

"_Funny; he never mentioned it before._"

Sharon shrugged, they had never advocated it either of them. It had been too dark and too intimate to mention casually to other people. Of course all the old detectives knew about them (except Provenza, which she always wondered about. Where had he been at that time?); but the newer ones hadn't a clue. "_It was a long time ago_"

The blonde woman nodded. "_Well, he seems happy,_" she commented.

Sharon smiled; that was like a seal of approval, right. Not that she needed it; she had been on the LAPD longer than the chief. She knew more about the inner workings and the people. But Andy would be happy to know his chief approved. For him she was happy.

"_Yes,_" she replied.

The chief smiled back at her; and there was nothing antagonistic or suspicious in her smile. Sharon smiled back as well; not an ounce of sarcasm or barely toleration in hers.

"_I just have a hard time imagining you in homicide,_" the chief half-laughed, tilting her head still staring Sharon down.

"_Yeah; I get that quite often. I remind people of a lawyer_"

The chief nodded in agreement; maybe a little too vehemently for Sharon arched an eyebrow.

"_So much for one's presumptions of people_," the chief continued.

"_Mm-hmm,_" Sharon hummed sipping her coffee, "_I never imagined you had been a CIA interrogator when I first saw you – then you opened your mouth,_" she let the rest of the sentence go in silence.

They both laughed.

**-o-**

"_She hates me," _Andy sighed._ "Your daughter hates me" _He was standing in his boxers, hands on his hips and a defeated look on his face.

"_No, she doesn't" _Sharon replied even though she wasn't sure herself, "_She's just _– "

"_She's what? Trying to make me go away?_" He slinked towards the bed and then sunk down on it in a heap of long limps and a long sigh. She found him almost adorable in this pouty mood.

"_She's testing you Andy; it's a family thing,_" she tried to reassure him as she climbed into bed with him, settling into his welcoming embrace.

He half grinned before he became serious again.

"_Still Ray; she was glaring at me throughout dinner - constantly_"

"_She will like you, eventually. Don't worry about it_"

Andy nodded but he didn't look convinced.

He was right. Lena had been eying Andy through the whole course of their dinner. Sharon wasn't sure what her daughter had been thinking. She had Steven's eyes and they had looked inscrutable. She wished Sammy had been there; it would have been easier. Sam would have been able to pull his sister into laughter, he would have engaged Andy in his stories about university and he would have sent his mother a secretive smile, letting her know how much he really understood the fragile dynamics of everything. But no, Sammy was hoarding the library at his university and studying for his exam. Just the three of them.

Andy had asked Lena questions, tried to engage her in a conversation but every question had been met with a half-nod, half-smile – Sharon had recognized it as being a polite but really half-annoyed smile.

The week before she had dragged her reluctant daughter with her on a shopping spree together with Gavin; that had exceeded all her expectations. There had been no surly teenager and Lena had actually had a good time – they had laughed, joked and bought too much. They had talked about universities and the future; Lena was looking into applying. It had been a good day; Sharon had felt closer to her daughter than she had had in a long time. They had even had a conversation about their relationship; about why it sometimes felt strained and how they could improve it.

Sharon had thought it would be time to introduce Andy officially to her daughter; instead of being that shadow in her mother's life she heard about occasionally from her brother.

But dinner had been awkward. It had consisted of Lena firing questions, Andy looking uncomfortable and Sharon trying hard not to slink away.

"_I thought you couldn't fraternize with the people you work with, mom?_" Lena had said to them over a spoon of soup, while still eying Andy, her tone almost reproachful.

"_We are not in the same chain of command, so it's not really a problem_" Andy had replied with a lenient smile. Sharon had only looked at her daughter, contemplating what was upsetting her.

Her daughter had hummed; that little affirmative hum that put Sharon on edge; a passive-hum that bordered on indifference. It was the one she used frequently herself but she disliked been an audience to it herself.

"_Does dad know?_" her clueless daughter had asked Sharon, "_that you are dating and all_"

"_Yes_," Sharon had answered her, tight-lipped and voice too clipped. Thank god, Lena was not aware of the history between her and Andy like Sam. Thank god; Steven didn't talk about Andy to Lena. But this whole degree of cross examining, it frayed her nerves.

"_Just; dad said you weren't, you know dating. You seem serious about this_"

Of course her father would say that; he was a prick. Sharon had tried to collect herself, to calm down – Lena was just being difficult like usual when something happened she hadn't been prepared for.

She had given Andy a small apologetic smile and he had answered back in kind.

"_It's serious, Lena,_" she had told her daughter, giving her a smile to alleviate some of the tension.

"_Isn't a Captain higher rank than a Lieutenant?_"

Mercy; her daughter had been intent on ruining Sharon's self-control throughout the whole course of dinner. Thank god; it was over. Sharon missed Sam; he would have made it all easier.

She intertwined her fingers with Andy's, cuddling further into his embrace, enjoying the comforts of the silent bedroom, "_Don't worry_,_ honey_," she told him, "_At least Sam likes you_"

Andy huffed.

"_Hey; at least I like you_," she joked and he laughed.

Lena would come around eventually; she just needed some time. She had never been one to take to things or people quickly. It would be alright, Sharon thought.

She kissed him, letting her hands wander down. She smiled, he would soon forget the horrible dinner.

**-o-**

Thank you for all the wonderful reviews, =)


	8. Part 7 Shade in your love

**Part VII; Shade in your love **

**-o-**

_Beastly and abruptly it came in a torrent; she felt pulled and tugged along by opposing forces; her heart was once again torn._

Sharon felt backed into a corner. Her hands were raised in surrender and she covered in the corner but the force of darkness kept advancing; self-protection came alive within a heartbeat and reared its head before she could think. It was a dormant reaction that came to the surface without effort when she felt threatened; when she felt the snares of something heavy and dark pressing forcefully at her, suffocating her.

Hackles rose, her inner soul bared its teeth and prepared to fight. Unconsciously she prepared to defend herself; teeth, claws – words. It was not unlike swimming underwater in a murky dark lake; enswathed in water all around, below and above. The world outside seemed surreal; faraway and covered in a blur of murkiness. Her surroundings felt heavy yet light, oppressive yet without gravity – existence seemed to slow down and progress at a very sluggish rate. She was encased in darkness however she could still see the light; somewhere above her, maybe somewhere within her. Mostly; it felt irrational and strange.

Andy was on the defensive as well; coiled and tense. It felt unreal.

The reason behind it, for suddenly taking arms and preparing to battle; it had nothing to do with them. It had nothing to do with their dark history and had not an ounce of their usual guilt and fear to it. It was so different.

It was the mess of major crimes; it was the mess of the Chief and the leak and the lawsuit. The mess of finding that leak, of defending the chief – the chaos of mistrust and anguish that now resided in major crimes; it came into her life with Andy. Infected both of them and their interactions with each other. It crept beneath their skin and lay multiplying and infecting; breeding more and more discontent and dark energy – angry dirt in their hearts.

Andy was caught in a mix of sheer disbelief and outrage submersion into dark distrust; she could feel the tension around him, shimmering and almost dangerous in its potent energy. It enveloped him like a second skin, hung unto his aura and it dug its claws into him – she wondered if he was aware of how much it affected him.

She imagined he longed for the blissful detachment alcohol would bring; she knew he went to more meetings than usual. It reminded her of another time; and made her ponder how many meetings he had gone to because of her. He told her where he was going but that was it. Still a vulnerable subject for them; still buried and not spoken about. She knew Andy didn't deny it though; he talked with everyone about it – she knew he had talked briefly with Sam about it – knew he had come to terms with it. Just not where she was concerned; he rarely if ever mentioned it. Only that he was going out to a meeting.

She tried to soothe and comfort him; to somehow relay some of the potent energy in him into thin air. She could kiss it away but it would be there again in the morning. It was not directly pointed towards her the energy she knew. But it still caused something to change between them; it sizzled between them. The problem; she was likewise submerged into the whole mess. That aura of dark tension was rooted into her being as well. It all hinged on her; on finding the root of it all, on finding the leak – on protecting major crimes and the chief.

They didn't talk about it but left it. So it nestled between them buried but not forgotten.

That was where the trouble started she imagined; they buried it along with all the other dark things – and of course that had ramifications so similar to past problems. As a result they backed into opposing corners, defensive and prepared to fight. It was behavior ingrained into them, embedded within them like the automatic rhythm of breathing. It lay deep-rooted in them, beyond origin and reason – animate and precarious.

It was culminating and slowly spiraling beyond their conscious control; it was gathering energy and tension, getting ready to explode any moment now, she reflected. It made her feel like standing on the edge of a very dark abyss; she felt part anxious, part excited; any second it would overwhelm them and she had no idea what would happen then.

When it finally came together; it exploded in colors, in a kaleidoscope of fiery energy and combustible matter. Exploded in something she had not anticipated; but here they were once again.

It exploded in the workspace, naturally.

It exploded in hurtful words suddenly hurled across the room, at each other; words that lost their meaning and intent the moment they left their lips. It became a blur of streaking words and raised voices; the undertone of anger and defeat coming alive and imploding in their midst. She was barely conscious of what left her mouth, only her lips moved and an intense feeling of adrenaline coursed through her body and made her tingle with dark anticipation and an inner yearning to reflect back all this darkness on him. His eyes were flashing, almost like two sets of coal burning in the depths of their socket – his mouth was moving as well, teeth bared but she couldn't comprehend the words either.

His body seemed taut with tension, arms flying in wild gesticulations; and for a brief moment she had a sudden recollection of being in this situation before. This seemed to be a repeated pattern in their life; an echo that was attached to their beings – souls glued together in repetition. It felt like home, she mused darkly as she gesticulated back at Andy, her mouth moving. Not some fantasy or fairytale of sweet home; but it was the base they always found themselves returning to. It was familiar and it fit them, welcomed them with open arms.

Deep down she knew he was not angry at her; but he had no other outlet. She knew his soul was exhausted and felt tired of the dark; she knew he had to expel it someway. This was merely their shared habit; their comfort zone when adversity hit – a foundation to always rely on; not a very good one or a healthy one.

It made her sad suddenly; exhausted as well.

Andy stepped away from the safety of the wall opposite her. They had been standing in their own opposite corner, backs up against the sturdy fundament of a wall; like wild animals afraid of attack coming from behind. He was edging closer and closer towards her as he continued to yell. He was invading – towering and tall as he came closer and closer. She backed up – literally into the wall and found herself unsure. She had nothing but words and they were flying so plentiful and pretentious in the air that whatever would come out of her mouth it was bound to hit him like a small breeze of air; it would fall off and slide to the ground, useless and pathetic - inconsequential.

Sharon felt torn; something almost reminiscent of fear and something remotely like desire coursing through her, mixing and tangling in a mess until she couldn't decide what she felt. Just torn; wavering on the edge. She wasn't sure what would tip her over but Andy advancing on her was not helping.

He was so close now she had to tilt her head to look into his eyes. She felt trapped; panic the foremost emotion rushing through her. It was instinct in her, she had never liked feeling confined and he was surrounding her now; with his presence, his body and his vehement words.

Before – before he yelled directly into her face? Kissed her? – before he could take a step closer she slipped beyond his reach and hurried to her escape; the door slammed in his face as she left. It was either fight or flee; she chose the latter. She needed to be able to breathe and he was stifling her, his tension felt like something sitting on her chest, pressing on her ribcage and making it hard to breathe; it felt too oppressive.

She needed air; needed to breathe. Needed some distance before something happened she couldn't account for or control.

She didn't hear her name leave his lips; she willed herself to just flee. She heard him curse though but ignored it. She ignored the curious eyes of Provenza following her exit as well. She ignored her heart beating and drumming so loud it resonated within her head. She latched onto the familiar click of her heels against the floor, hung unto the small thread of sanity within her.

She reached the elevator, felt distorted as she waited.

Her heart beat even louder as she heard the unmistakable sound of footsteps coming closer; she felt nauseated when she recognized his gait. She felt almost sick with a fever; couldn't he just let her breathe!

"_Sharon_," he breathed out in a low growl.

She continued to look at the closed elevator doors, willing herself to ignore him.

"_Sharon,_" he said brusquely as he took a hold of her wrist. She had expected his touch to be somewhat angry but it was gentle; it clashed with the tone of hardness in his voice. She looked up, hesitantly, his eyes were less hostile than she had imagined.

Before she could voice her consent he placed a hand upon the small of her back and manhandled her into the nearest doorway; leading to the stairs and fire escape. He closed the door after him with a resonant click.

She waited; her eyes intently on his large hand still on her wrist. She watched as his thumb traced tenderly across the inside of her wrist.

This felt like being greeted with the whole spectrum of emotions in the manner of mere minutes, she mused. It felt overpowering in its intensity. She felt volatile – they felt volatile; ready to combust into fire any moment if they were not already burning searing white.

He stepped closer, leaning towards her, so close that his body was pressed against hers; suddenly and abruptly – but oh what a sturdy presence. He felt like a wall holding her up, solid and there. His hands were suddenly attached to the sides of her face, gently cradling as if she was precious and would fall apart if he put too much force in it. He looked torn when she finally looked up into his eyes – brown and contrite.

"_I'm sorry_ – _I'm so sorry_"

The words hit her hard; made her tremble and suddenly the knot in her stomach unraveled and disintegrated. She raised her hand and caressed his jaw, fingers mesmerized by the texture of his skin; amazed at the sudden departure of everything intense, amazed all it took was his presence and those words and all her nausea disappeared.

They ended up pressed against each other, hands roaming and mouths seeking. This was not how she had envisioned resolving everything; but oh god it worked – she could already feel how everything left her body and she could only concentrate, only focus, on ravaging him and the need to connect with him. She kept mumbling '_sorry_' into his lips, buried herself closer in his embrace, and tightened her grip on him.

This was just another battle; one devoid of words.

**-o-**

Andy was calm again. She could feel it, feel the tension almost gone, his breathing unperturbed and his arm heavy across her body. He was sleeping; sleeping peacefully from what she could gather.

She lay wide awake; watching him. Listening to him breathe; it soothed her.

She smoothed his hair gently, softly put a chaste kiss on his brow. He was vulnerable now, she knew. She would try to protect him. Even if today had proved they were both vulnerable. She was immensely thankful he had followed her to the elevator; she wasn't sure she would have had the strength to find him when she had calmed down. She would, she acknowledged, have let it be, ignored it and fled. And then she would most likely have avoided him for days until he showed up on her doorstep, distraught and even worse off than when she'd fled.

She kissed his shoulder, thankful Andy was mindful of their relationship and how fickle she could be. He was always steady, unwavering even when he was caught in the middle of darkness.

The future felt determined yet unclear, she surmised.

**-o-**


	9. Part 8 Lines in your heart

**Part VIII; Lines in your heart **

**-o-**

_Emotional, forceful – suddenly the world changed; yet her heart had no trouble with surrender. _

Sharon felt caught in a web of opposing emotions; vivid contradictory emotions that surrounded her in a most bizarre spin; why it was an inner conflicting battle that felt just a bit disorienting. She found herself caught dazed and confused; she felt useless and trapped in a grey depressive mesh and yet she could not banish the light soft feeling residing inside her, grounded and unwavering despite the turmoil of her world. It was both unsettling and freeing. For once, she found herself rooted to the spot with determination and a countenance that would not move at the slightest little disturbance. Mostly it was freeing.

She felt a little bit useless though. It was inevitable now, like the spin of the earth and the rise of the sun. But it did not matter; it was outside her reach and beyond her control. But still she felt useless – inadequate. And yet; yet she was happy. It felt most peculiar.

It felt like a bad joke or something gone horrible wrong. It was as if she was in the middle of a dream and this was not reality. This seemed too absurd to be reality. But then again it seemed too cruel to merely be a dream. It was either a nightmare or it was real. She imagined the hallways crowded with gleeful ghouls and vindictive demons; they wanted their piece of the show – they wanted a piece of the gossip.

She felt bad for the chief; felt bad that the only solution was for Brenda-Leigh Johnson to fall on her own sword. It made her slightly angry; had it been anyone else they would have been able to keep their job. Had it been a man, she thought angrily, this would have turned out differently.

Still; she felt light – a vivid light beaming inside her. This was merely a little cloud passing by and had nothing to do with her relationship with Andy. It felt almost absurd to realize that she was content; settled. Why, she could barely remember the reason for all her hesitance, all her worries in the past – it seemed almost silly now, thinking back. It was simple, she had finally realized – just like Andy had told her on numerous occasions. Looking back, she admired his patience – admired his will to let the past go and look to the future.

She was sad it had come to this for major crimes but she felt happy for herself; happy she was finally unwavering in her love. It felt like being able to breathe without difficulty, without strain or fear. It felt glorious. She felt like smiling at people she barely knew.

Andy however, she mused, was unstable. She could sense how he drew into himself, ruminating and reflecting about so many dark things – how he seemed to delve down into a familiar dark hole. His forehead was creased most of the time, an almost angry set to the lines around his mouth and his eyes looked fragile. Sharon knew the chief had left the department of major crimes with a gaping hole, left her squad with nothing but confusion and anger.

She splayed her hand across his chest, rubbing to get his attention, gently but with enough force.

"_Hey, you with me?_" her voice was low, sultry she knew. He had been staring up at the ceiling and she knew that look.

His eyes found hers but he still seemed very far away. He seemed to be in another universe despite that they lay naked together, so close there were no barriers at all. She tangled her legs with his, settling into the warmth of his skin - looking at him, her fingers laced together, resting on his chest.

"_Sorry,_" he grimaced.

She hummed; "_Andy_," she hoisted herself up his body and planted her lips on his jaw, "_don't apologize – just kiss me, hmm_"

He gave a wolfish grin and complied, his mouth warm and perfect.

When they broke apart however he still had a contemplative glint in his eyes. He looked troubled, "_Do you ever wonder about – I mean do you have regrets about. You know, ever starting an affair with me? All the other stuff?_"

She rolled her eyes, of course all this mess would leave him doubting himself, to ruminate about the past – now when she finally felt she had let go. She gave him a warm smile; he was precious, even in this contemplative dark depressive mood. She cupped his chin and forced his eyes on her;

"_No,_ _not any more. You know that_"

He nodded and her thumb traced along the stubble on his jaw.

"_Did you consider leaving the LAPD back when you became pregnant?_"

The question felt heavy and underlined with something she did not completely understand.

"_Briefly, yeah. Steven wanted me to_" she told him. She did not tell him it had been a constant thought even as she had transferred to internal affairs; it had been like a dark plague back then. She wanted to assuage him now though, comfort him – not push him further into dark self-reflection.

"_So you transferred instead,_" he sighed.

She went silent and just gave a small nod. There was really not much else to say to that.

"_Have I ever told you why I did what I did?_" it was vague sentence but she had an idea what he meant. His tone was soft; his eyes firmly on her and she got caught in their brown gaze, "_Why I told you to go back to him?_" he elaborated.

She supposed he needed her to understand; he needed to talk with her, to tell her about his heart. The chief had left abruptly and without much of an explanation. Maybe he felt compelled to explain something to her; compelled to finally have it out. She felt light-headed; maybe he finally wanted to reexamine all those dark little things they had buried. Dig them up and look at them in daylight; then cast them away. She would like that; a wholesome cleanse. Why, he had already opened the gates wide. She had always imagined they would be over flooded by all their shared darkness pouring out of the locked abyss; imagined it would be too much. But now it just felt natural.

"_I did not understand at the time, Andy,_" she told him, caressing his shoulder. He seemed a bit lost to her as he looked at her; she wanted to snuggle into his side and hold him close. She continued; "_But I understand now. I know you loved me and you wanted what was best for me_"

He nodded, linked his hands with hers, intertwining their fingers, "_I wanted to protect you. I was in a really bad place._"

"_We both were,_" she acknowledged.

She could see he disagreed in his dark brown eyes. She imagined he most likely felt he had been the one to screw everything up; taking the blame for everything upon himself – internalizing it.

"_I was really a mess back then too_," she clarified.

She watched him; there was something he wanted to tell her. He seemed tense.

"_I drank too much before you,_" he told her quietly. It surprised her; she had somehow always thought it had culminated when she fucked his life up.

She must have looked somewhat dazed, for he leaned up and placed a brief tender kiss on her lips.

"_There are so many things we never talk about. I don't want there to be any doubt, any misconception between us. Okay. I was a drunk before we began our affair – heck before I joined the police_"

She heaved a breath; laid her head on his chest.

"_I guess I've always thought it had something to do with the undercover mission and everything else at that time_." Sure, they had both been drinking a lot around the time; always ending up sharing beers with the rest of the gang. But it had not seemed a problem.

"_I was a mess before I met you – you seemed like a sudden light to me back then, dumping into my life. I guess that was why I did not give a crap about your marriage_"

She smiled, "_I did not either; not where you were concerned_._ I have never really understood it. You know, back then and now I have a hard time reconciling myself with it._"

He nodded, his arms heaving her up and closer to his lips. He kissed her, slowly – drew his fingers into her hair. His body beneath felt sturdy.

She sighed; maybe it was good to get everything out.

"_I walked around in a state of terror the whole eight months of my pregnancy before the paternity test. Looking back, I was severely depressed. I'm amazed I passed psych evaluations at all. I barely spoke to Steven, you know. I have no idea why he put up with it._"

His arms tightened around her.

"_I hated you. Vehemently and yet I wanted you to be the father. But mostly I just hated you and missed you. It was horrible_"

"_Me too,_" he replied, his lips warm against her cheek. "_I missed you so much_. _I just wanted you to be happy, back then. I realized I would rather hate you and miss you than make you miserable with my mess._"

"_I'm happy now,_" she looked up and caught his eyes.

He smiled.

"_I'm happy, Andy_," she told him again, a little giggle escaping her lips.

His smile became wider; then faltered a bit; "_I am sorry about that incident, you know in the restroom – when we were not talking._"

He did not need to elaborate further; that incidence was another little black spot. She nodded, her mind going back to that disastrous day. God, it was a long time ago. She had been so angry, he had been so angry; it had culminated when they collided into each other.

She exhaled; "_God, that was a long time ago. I think it was inevitable. We were both to blame for that, you know._"

"_I know. It just feels so; tainted now_"

"_Maybe_," she lay her head down on his chest. Her body felt alive; felt so light it was bound to flee from gravity any moment now. She had never imagined they would lie like this and actually acknowledge all the dark things in their past; talk about it really. It felt like breathing something new; something more nourishing than mere oxygen.

"_I don't regret a thing about us,_" she told him, her voice was resolute and solid; and she realized the truth in her words. It was their path and the one they had taken; regrets only left to heartache. Their route had led to this, despite everything.

He tightened his arms around her, his hand touching her cheek tenderly.

"_I regret not kissing you more,_" he said and she could hear the laughter in his voice.

"_Hmm_," she looked up and caught his gaze, "_you better amend that then, huh_"

He did.

Everything would be alright. Everything was just right.

**-o-**

"_It's the coffee express,_" Andy announced as he practically bounced in through her office door, a smile plastered on his face – a wide cheeky grin.

"_Erm, hi_," she managed, caught in surprise.

He set a large plastic cup on her desk beside a large pile of disorderly files. She was in the middle of investigating a sergeant who had the misfortune of always getting into tricky situations. Situations that would inevitably deviate to countless complaints against him; it was a wonder he was still employed. It was a heavy workload to read through.

"_Can I hide out here?_" he asked with a mischievous smile and she found herself smiling back in kind.

"_Provenza's first day commanding your division,"_ she mused, _"What did you do?_"

"_Nothing. Absolutely nothing. I'm here to check up on your progress into the conduct of a Sergeant Sheridan._"

"_Hmm, stuck doing bitch-work!_"

"_Literally, yeah,_" he grinned.

She indicated the pile of files on the desk; "_I won't be done today. This is worse than your collection_"

"_Hey, I was cleared of all charges_"

"_I know_"

They grinned at each other.

"_You are welcome to hide out here, Lieutenant_," she told him as she reached for her new fresh cup of coffee. She sipped and settled back into reading. God, it was god coffee.

She did not get very far into the report – a whole sentence – before her chair was suddenly turned around and lips found hers; full and warm lips.

"_I'm bored,_" he mumbled into her mouth.

She kissed him back.

She could indulge in a little break, she thought. She just needed to keep track of time; she had a meeting with the new assistant chief Taylor later. She briefly wondered about the meeting but quickly left it. Andy's lips seemed far more important and deserving of attention.

**-o-**

The air was warm and humid; encased them in a sense of walking close to a hot burning furnace. She linked her hand with Andy's, giving him a smile as they met each other's eyes. It was a lazy weekend; they were strolling along the beach – silent but content. Her apartment was empty now; both children far away at university. Work was sparse and they had plenty of free time – they could forget the mess of major crimes for the time being. Everything was peaceful, here far away from work and worries. She took delight in the feeling settling in her; it was so serene it felt almost too easy to just surrender to it. But she did – needed to otherwise she would go insane. Everything would soon change she knew; she needed this while it was possible. If she told him about the transfer now; it would ruin everything. He would know soon enough anyway. No need to rush anything problematic between them. She knew they would figure it out, somehow.

"_Remember that one time we played a prank on Henderson?_" she asked Andy with a soft laugh.

She could feel the rumble of his laugh, felt his hand tighten around hers; "_Oh god; yeah_"

"_Sometimes I miss the good old days,_" she relented, "_It seemed so uncomplicated back then_"

She watched him nod, a small smile playing at the corner of his lips.

"_I cannot imagine anyone playing a prank on Pope, or Provenza for that sake,_" she clarified.

"_No. I miss that too,_" he agreed, "_Hell, Henderson laughed when people took the mickey out of him, remember that?_"

"_Oh yeah. His evil laugh. I had nightmares about it_"

He laughed, "_No you didn't, rookie_"

She shook her head; Andy brought her closer, bringing his arm around her waist.

"_Remember that time we unintentionally screwed up a crime scene and we had to cover it up?_"

She laughed, high and uninhibited; she had forgotten that little memoir.

"_Vaguely,_" she replied.

"_Ha ha, -_ " he sassed, "_I remember it vividly, Ray. You were so sweet and had that weird half-guilty, half-bitchy look upon your face the rest of the month_"

She harrumphed.

"_I think I found you too adorable,_" Andy continued.

"_Really,_" she looked at him; beaming.

"_Yeah,_" he beamed back.

It was good to sometimes let things be. Ignore them and just languor in positivity. Even if the future seemed unpredictable.

The strings between them, the lines from his heart to hers, were forged in adversity and darkness; they could not be severed. Forged in red-hot fire and searing flame like a sharp-edged sword. It would not break. Their love was unwavering, she mused.

**-o- **


	10. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

-o-

Sharon vividly remembered the first time Andy kissed her. It was a very vivid imprint in her mind, the vibrancy of it illuminant in her remembrance, tingling her lips as she recollected it.

It had been so brief, so sudden, so awkward – and like a ghost upon her lips.

It had happened so suddenly; she had been unprepared. They had been out on the streets patrolling. They had been running like the hounds of hell were at their heels, heaving after air and holding unto courage with closed shaky hands – chasing two subjects who had literally just robbed a convenience store in front of the police.

Andy had tackled one of the suspects to the ground and Sharon had tried to imitate him – she had ended up with her back on the ground, big thick hands around her neck. It had been a panicky struggle, she remembered – but she had managed to kick the guy in his balls.

Their breaths had been loud in the darkly lit alley; the two thieves had covered and grumbled, handcuffed to the rail of a bench. They had called for back-up.

Andy had inspected her throat, the raw red marks of fingerprints bringing him to stand close to her. She remembered that his tall frame had soothed her nervous energy. His touch had been so gentle it had felt like air.

She had given him a relived smile; glad they were both okay.

He had kissed her - simply.

Sharon vividly remembered it; the half-apologetic, semi coy look he had tried to hide and the small hidden uplift to his lips. She remembered it so vividly because no one had ever looked at her like that. No kiss had ever been so brief and yet so potent.

She might have smiled back at him, and her eyes might have twinkled too much.

She might have taken a hold of his fingers, later on, and squeezed them.

**-o-**

Thank you all for following, =)


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